


Something about December

by DelicatePoem



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Co-workers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Holidays, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Romance, They Are Idiots, Trapped In Elevator, Tropes, appearances can be deceiving!!!, as always, be patient with Regina pls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21566326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelicatePoem/pseuds/DelicatePoem
Summary: It's no secret that Emma can’t stand Regina Mills, with whom she unfortunately shares the desk. The entire office knows it, even if they have no idea why and how their feud started.Months of mutual hatred culminate into the unthinkable: their bosses force them to work together to prepare the company’s first Christmas Party. Things unravel from there.(And it would be much easier for Emma if she wasn't attracted just a tiny bit to her impossible and very beautiful co-worker.)
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 35
Kudos: 294
Collections: Swan Queen Advent Calendar Collection 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I have no idea what happened, but I decided to roll with it.
> 
> I blame Emma and Regina for not following the script.
> 
> Emma most especially. She pines like there's no tomorrow. And that was NOT the plan.
> 
> Thank you **Philo** for being such an amazing friend and helping me out with this! ♥ I was panicking because I thought it wouldn't be ready, but you believed in me and so here it is!! Thanks again.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it, lol.  
> Happy Holidays!!!

_“...It’s been roughly two years since we’ve started. I know I’ve been a terrible friend lately! But things are mostly stable right now, and we’ve built a good network with three other big companies.”_ Ruby is saying to her over the phone. 

Wandering aimlessly in her small bedroom as she listens, Emma wonders where Ruby is going with this, and why does she need to hear all the details of a company that has nothing to do with her.

It’s freaking 7 AM, she’s just returned from a double-shift. Give her some credit.

She hums in all the appropriate parts. She is interested, she is! — but she’s been stifling a huge yawn for the past eight minutes and counting. She wants to _sleep._

Emma kicks a t-shirt she left on the floor last night — or was it the day before? — after she tried it on and realized it was starting to smell. She makes a mental note to do her laundry soon. Looking around her bedroom, she winces, because _what a mess._ If Mulan sees this, she’ll kill Emma.

Understandable, if you ask her.

“That’s great, Ruby,” Emma tells her when there’s a lull in the conversation. However, despite the effort, she cannot feign much enthusiasm, and hopes Ruby won’t notice. She feels a sharp twinge of guilt in her chest — that’s her _friend._ She should be happy — at least someone she knows is thriving. Shouldn’t it be enough?

_“Mhmm! And now we’re bringing more people in! How would you feel to be part of the team?”_

Emma nearly face-plants into the shoes sprawled on the floor. Damn it, she set up her own trap… 

But then she registers Ruby’s words.

“What—?”

_“Marian will love you, I’m sure.”_

“Wait, wait.” Emma blinks, standing still in the middle of her bedroom. “Who’s _Marian?”_

 _“Keep up, Emma. She’s the co-founder with me. She’s like… the_ sugar, _y’know? I’m the salt in the equation, she’s the sugar. Wait. That sounded weird. Is it salt and pepper? No...”_ Ruby laughs. _“I have no idea, Em.”_

Emma shakes her head. “You’re not making any sense.”

 _“Okay… that analogy sucks. But! What’s important is that… she’s the best co-worker I’ve ever had. The best part: we’re almost opposites. But it just_ works. _I call her CEO, even though we’re both founders. I’m just the engineer, really. She does all the_ booooring _part of the job. I build things.”_

Emma stays silent, almost not daring to _breathe._

 _“Anyways, you’ll see that soon enough. Remember how I said we still needed the website and the brand and etcetera etcetera? That’s where_ you _come in, Emma.”_

“Ruby… What the _fuck,”_ is her very impolite answer as she laughs nervously, unable to believe… She grips the phone closer to her ear to make sure she’s hearing right. She rubs her chest, the guilt sharper than ever. _I’m a terrible friend,_ she thinks, and mentally apologizes profusely to Ruby. She’d been _jealous._ (Maybe working two shifts at the diner wasn’t a good idea. Tired Emma is Terrible Friend Emma, apparently.)

_“And, before you ask— No, it’s not a joke, you idiot… I know I tend to joke around but I’m being serious.”_

Emma plops herself down on the bed, mind reeling. _“_ _R_ _uby!_ Brand identity developer _and_ web designer?” She runs her free hand through her matted hair, and makes a face — she needs a shower after this. “Not that I’m _complaining,_ but I’m not the most qualified—”

 _“Then shut up,”_ Ruby answers in all her nonchalant charm, interrupting Emma before she can blurt out all the ways she’s inadequate for this. Thank you, Ruby. _“Start as a graphic designer for us, and then if everything works out we’ll move you to creative director by the time the company has completely set off. You’ll get a piece of stock, also.”_

 _Whoa. What the hell._ “My— my portfolio, I don’t think it’s ready for—”

 _“Don’t worry about it,”_ Ruby says reassuringly. _“Bring over what you have, we’ll take a look. But I’ve seen your work, Emma, and it’s just my luck you haven’t been snatched yet.”_

Ruby proceeds to explain how a startup works — how it is, in the end, a gamble, but one that she feels very confident that will work, especially since they have quite a few business partners. Besides, if it doesn’t work, it’s all experience for her CV.

 _“...we’ll get you some help eventually, a small team of your own. We really need to launch ourselves first, and the brand design is the key component we’re missing for now. After that, we need the website. Once you’re in, we’ll work together to build it. You draft out the plan, then we can work on programming it — currently, I’m also the web developer in the partnership. And you know that I almost flunked Arts, so we’re really floundering here. Thank god Arts wasn’t anywhere_ near _my major.”_

Snorting, Emma nods as if Ruby can see it, now lying down on the bed. “Still not sure why you decided to enter that course, really. It had nothing to do with your major.”

 _“Hey! I wanted a nice set of skills, alright?”_ her friend mumbles on the line.

“Mhmm,” Emma agrees with an amused smile. The amount of times Emma had to help her fix proportions or remind Ruby she had assignments due… Well, they became friends _because_ of the art class they shared, so Emma wouldn’t trade it for anything.

_“Okay so… the salary is not the best right now, but we’ll pay for your designs in advance, if that helps. Will you consider it?”_

“Rubes, I—”

_“Will you think about it?”_

“I’ll… I’ll definitely think about it.”

 _“Good. Call you in three days. Mwah.”_ The line clicks. Typical Ruby.

A hand to her forehead, Emma wonders how long will it take until she wakes up from this wonderful dream. What the hell! Since when did she get real _opportunities_ in life?

Right.

She doesn’t.

Her smile drops.

She’ll probably blow it up, she’s probably not qualified, and Marian will confirm that if Emma even goes to the interview— 

“Emma!” Mulan’s voice echoes through the hallway. “Breakfast!”

“You can have it!” she shouts back, still stunned. 

She’s not moving from the bed. Nope. She’s just realized she _can’t do this._ She’ll ruin it, somehow. Like she always does.

That little seed of hope blooming in her chest was drowned with too much water and never had the chance to grow, really.

A knock interrupts her morose thoughts — and she’s not even drunk to act like a morose person. Must be the lack of sleep. Emma sighs.

“It’s open,” she says.

“You never say no to food,” Mulan deadpans as soon as the door’s open. “Who do I have to k—”

“Everything’s fine,” Emma says quickly. She hoists herself up from the bed with a grunt, and barely glances at her roommate stationed at her threshold. “I got a job opportunity.” She adds a shrug for good measure. Downplays it.

“You don’t look happy,” Mulan points out. “Why?”

“I might have been hallucinating, who knows,” Emma attempts to joke, avoiding the real reason why. “I don’t remember how many hours it’s been since I’ve slept.”

She can feel Mulan studying her, but she avoids looking in her direction, because Mulan is well-versed in Emma’s moods by now.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen,” Mulan says in her best no-nonsense tone. “You’re going to put these clothes in the basket, take a shower and then meet me in the kitchen.”

Emma nods eagerly, before Mulan can change her mind and decide to kick her ass for not doing the laundry for… _a long time_ (she has no idea how long it’s been).

*******

One moment, there she’d been, working two jobs to keep afloat and barely making it to help pay rent and the bills. Being part-time waitress at night and part-time assistant to the most idiotic person she’d ever met — as well as doing art commissions on her idle hours — definitely wasn’t doing things to her health.

And then, when she’d least expected it... She received an offer she couldn't refuse.

*******

Nearly two weeks later, Emma has a job. A full-time job. And today’s her _first day._

And she cannot believe she’s even thinking of this — it’s sort of embarrassing, even — but she’s just made an _enemy_ because of an _elevator,_ and honestly... it sounds ridiculous.

Emma’s already decided she hates elevators. They goad you into believing you can take them to avoid losing precious time, and then _someone_ snatches it away and you’re forced to use the freaking stairs to the 9th damned floor.

Huffing as she quickly climbs the endless stairs, she admits to herself that… sure, there’s a chance she’ll make a fool of herself and fail on her first day. That’s _okay_ — it’ll be no one’s fault but hers. She’ll be damned, however, if a rude, selfish woman will ruin it before she gets to her desk. 

She makes another turn, adjusting her messenger bag on her shoulder yet again. The ninth floor seems very far away indeed.

“I almost had it,” she whines, holding onto the handrail as if her life depended on it. “I almost did.”

She spots the 7th Floor sign with a sigh of relief, and resolves to leave it behind her; it’s her first day on the job and she should be able to muster a few positive thoughts instead. (Although she’d be very happy if she never had to see that woman again.)

She walks into the reception and spots Marian talking to someone behind the desk.

“...I’ll have to take a closer look at this later,” she hears Marian say to them.

“Of course. The numbers look promising, however,” the person responds. Emma gets goosebumps from the sound of their voice, because goddamn, that _voice._ Velvet and chocolate and raspy (read: attractive as hell). She tries to crane her neck just slightly to look over Marian’s head but it would be so weird if the person spotted her and she’d been doing that. So... _nope._ Emma stands there and waits.

“I hope so,” Marian says. “We only need the blueprint for the website, in case you were about to ask.”

 _Aaaand, that’s my cue._ “Excuse me?” Emma finally asks. “Hi, I’m Emma Swan—”

“Speaking of her...” Marian swivels on her feet, smiling, and moves slightly out of the way and _now_ she can see to whom Marian was talking.

 _Is this a joke?_ Emma cannot believe it. _That’s her!_

A lie: actually, she can believe it. Her life has always been very complicated and _weird._ So she _can_ kind of believe it.

That’s the woman from the Elevator Incident. And in all of three seconds Emma’s able to identify that. The thing is… her photographic memory is a blessing and a curse. Even if she never saw her again, Emma would remember the perfectly coiffed dark hair and those red lips and her impassive face as the woman had told her to ‘ _Get the next one.’_ She can remember faces with just a glance. So fucking great.

(Emma will explain why the situation made her blood boil, because her grievances aren’t unfounded.

Nope.

Sure, Emma _is_ grouchy in the morning, and she almost left home too late to walk the distance instead of calling a taxi, but this woman just takes the medal for Superior Bitch.

Emma had entered the building in a fast pace, decidedly ignoring the fact she was _this_ close to being late. Then, on her way to the only elevator in the building, she’d had to work her way around an older man who was squinting at his phone and failed to understand the concept of _GET MOVING,_ and had pleaded to the person inside the elevator to hold it while lifting her hand.

Her nemesis had looked up from her phone, even, and told Emma quite clearly to get the next one. Didn’t move a finger, and she lost her ride.

Emma had rushed over anyway, pressed the button to call it back, but it was no use.)

The woman now looks simultaneously unimpressed _and_ perturbed by the situation, but doesn’t say a thing, just raises an eyebrow and dares Emma to comment.

She’s also _slightly_ intimidating, Emma will admit, gaze quickly going back to Marian (because maybe, if she ignores the woman’s presence, then _maybe_ she will disappear.)

“Hey Emma,” Marian says. “Nice to see you again.”

“Hi. Sorry I’m late.” Emma answers, cringing. 

Marian waves the concern away. “It’s fine, really. We know how traffic can get.”

Emma spares a pointed look in her enemy’s direction, who is pretending to arrange the stuff on the desk as she clearly listens in. “Mhmm, yeah… The _traffic_ was terrible.”

“Regina, come meet your co-worker!” Marian turns her head to talk to Emma’s en— okay, _Regina._ She turns to tell Regina she’s just assigned Emma’s space next to hers.

What the hell.

Emma nearly groans out loud.

*******

Since the first day, Emma has exchanged no more than ten words to Regina, and only if it was absolutely necessary.

After she registered the fact that they’d be sharing their space basically 24/7, things just got that much difficult.

Because it would have been fine to ignore her if she’d only be at the reception, right?

But no… she’s working right next to Emma.

Emma feels she’s constantly being judged — Regina is not as covert as she believes she is with the way she keeps glancing at Emma constantly, as though she’s waiting for the moment Emma will inevitably slip and fail. (How ominous. It makes her feel nervous, really.)

She much prefers to talk and settle things with Ruby. Or Elsa, who works in Accounting, even though her desk is on the other side of the startup office, because they are both _fun._

And Regina is not.

Today, Emma learns she’s better off working alone. She makes the mistake of asking Regina if she has a pen she could borrow _while_ Regina’s typing away on her computer.

Regina slowly lifts her fingers from the keys. Silently, she takes the whole black pen-holder next to her and drops it very noisily on the space between their desks, but doesn’t say a word.

“O-okay… thanks, I guess,” Emma mutters, vowing to never ask for anything again.

And fine, Emma’s _fine_ like this. Regina doesn’t want to talk? _Fine._

She can feel a headache settling in.

As soon as Regina leaves her desk a few minutes later, Emma grabs her phone and sends a few desperate texts to her roommate.

**Mulan**

_hey_

_i’m hungry and annoyed._

_can we get fast food for dinner?_

_pleeeease_

_let’s pretend it’s a tgiaf thing?_

_you have your date with Aurora tmrw, right?_

_so we do our meet-up today_

She goes back to her notebook sketch, writing down a few notes on the margin. She’s using the pen Regina so _kindly_ lent to her. It just serves as a reminder that Regina’s got to be the most irritating person on this _planet._

Emma’s halfway through her designing when two notifications pop up on her phone. She’d been keeping an eye out for Regina, but she’s still not back, which means it’s probably safe to reply.

**Mulan**

_Sure, but it’s not even 10AM??? lmao Unless… Did you have breakfast?_

_(And yeah, my date’s tomorrow)_

_a little over an hour ago but that’s not relevant_

_or is it_

🤔🤔🤔

_Yeah, it is relevant lol_

**_Mulan is typing..._ **

While she waits, Emma checks her inbox on the computer, finds an email from Ruby letting her know her draft is looking great and to _keep up the good work!_ Emma can’t quite keep her smile in check. At least someone appreciates her work.

She unlocks her phone again.

**Mulan**

_Emma… You’re already thinking about dinner. Something’s wrong if you forgot about lunch, which you also love and which comes before dinner_

_Work problems?_

_hm, kinda :/ i’ll tell you at dinner_

_meet you at mcdonalds around 7pm?_

_Hahaha_

_I knew it was work related._

_Okay, see you soon. Good luck._

_i’ll need it, thanks!_

*******

In the evening, Emma grabs her bag and puts her work stuff away, glad she escaped anymore interactions with Regina today. Thankfully, her co-worker left five minutes ago, so there’ll be no awkward goodbyes going unanswered again.

(Emma should stop doing that.

She blurts out stuff like that and it’s _embarrassing_ because Regina never answers. Never.

A part of Emma can admit that she does it because she _wants_ to see if Regina will respond. She wants to interact with her. And that’s really, really bad because Regina hates her, so she should just hate her back.

Also, Regina is probably a robot with zero feelings or regards for human beings.

But Emma has picked up some things already. Something about Regina’s face when she’s getting ready to go home or whatever it is she does after work... there’s something there that’s just _sad._

Her posture isn’t quite that perfect anymore, her lipstick has faded a bit from the long day, and the unreadable mask on her face cracks around the corners. Like she’s seeing the real Regina Mills, not _Ms. Mills_ or whatever.

She almost looks adrift, floating away and lost forever.

 _Shut up, Emma,_ she thinks to herself, boarding the empty elevator.

She’s over-analyzing. Imagining things, most likely. Because everyone is tired after a whole day of work, even Regina Mills.)

Once she’s outside, she glances around the busy street only to see an extremely familiar outline walking towards a car a few paces away, where a guy is waiting leaning against it.

She dials Mulan’s number and pretends it’s not because she wants to keep looking at Regina and the mysterious guy—

_“Hey, Em. Left work already?”_

She watches as Regina kisses his cheek, then remembers she’s supposed to talk to Mulan. “Uh— right. Hi!” Her voice is kind of high-pitched in her reply, but come on, she’s just found out that… “Yeah, I’m gonna leave now. You there already?”

Wait, what did she find out?

 _“Mhmm. Just got here. Want me to order for you or you’re going to choose a random one again?”_ Mulan asks.

Regina and the guy start talking on the sidewalk, and he pushes a strand of Regina’s hair behind her ear, and she can’t see Regina’s reaction besides how she folds her arms against her chest. Regina doesn’t really look comfortable.

_Stop looking, Emma. Stop it._

“Random,” she tells Mulan before her pause becomes too noticeable, walking in the opposite direction from where Regina is, because that’s the way to the nearest McDonald's. And not because she’s running away from them. Nope. “Random is fine. I’ll order.”

And hey, some people go for the bearded, campsite instructors type of men, Emma’s just not into it. Well, she’s not into men, to be fair. Women are her thing, one hundred percent.

_“Are you okay, by the way? You sound weird.”_

Emma looks skywards, asking for mercy. Mulan always notices these things. “Never better. Just distracted. See you soon, bye,” she adds quickly and ends the call.

Okay, so here’s what she found out: seems like Regina’s not gay. Wait, no. She could be or pansexual, maybe? But she’s dating. So it doesn't matter.

Emma doesn’t care, why should she care? None of her business. No.

She gets to the intersection, the light turns green and she walks down the crosswalk trying to shake the image of Regina and that man.

*******

“I don’t know what the hell is her problem,” Emma is saying later, munching on fries with too much salt, unable to stop thinking about Regina at the sidewalk. “I just asked for a _pen_ today. It’s always like that… she’s always rude and dismissive or whatever.”

Mulan shrugs, grabbing her burger but pausing before taking a bite. “And I don’t know why you let it affect you so much. Don’t talk to her, it’s simple.”

Emma is aware that’s something she should do, but it sits uncomfortably on her chest for some reason. “I’ll think about it,” she says with a half-hearted shrug.

“Good. Please do. And now, I gotta tell you about this guy at work.” Mulan shakes her head, frowning. “He thought he could explain to me how to teach my own class. It was maddening.”

“Oh! I saw Regina and this guy today when I left work,” Emma adds, wondering why she’s saying this at all. _It’s_ _none of my business._ “I think she’s dating him.”

Emma swipes a finger at the cheddar on her burger and tries it. Yum. Nothing like cheddar-definitely-not-cheddar. Healthy stuff.

Mulan snorts. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Emma asks, eyes wide. Did she smear cheddar on her cheek or something?

Pointing at Emma with her soda, Mulan explains, “You _like_ her, don’t you?”

Emma removes her hand from her cheek, blinking at the non sequitur. “Who?”

Her friend smirks. “You like _Regina.”_

“W-what?” she splutters, heart suddenly beating fast. “What the hell, Mulan! I hate her guts— she— She’s awful. And rude. We—we’re _enemies.”_

“Alright then,” Mulan says, amused.

“You haven’t even met her. You’d agree,” she mumbles, picking up her burger. "It’s nothing. Besides, she hates me. And I still don’t know what I did to her in the first place." McDouble poised in front of her, Emma changes the topic before this gets out of hand. She shouldn’t have mentioned Regina. “Now tell me how you showed this guy who’s the boss.”


	2. Chapter 2

Emma’s  _ late.  _

Try 28 minutes late.

She’d forgotten to charge her phone, which meant  _ no  _ alarm, then Mulan had knocked on her door, asking very calmly “Don’t you have work today?”, and Emma fell out of bed with a gasp. She’d thanked her friend profusely as she readied herself in record time.

By some blessing of the universe, Regina was absent from the reception, so she still has a chance.

“Hey,” Emma says quietly, giving Elsa a little wave. Elsa’s desk in the first one she sees when she walks into the office, and they’ve quickly developed a friendship of sorts. Emma had always been a bit of a loner since her terrible childhood, so she has no idea if they are really friends. She’s bad at it.

“Hello, Emma,” Elsa smiles.

Emma looks around worriedly. “Has Regina...”

Her co-worker pats Emma’s arm in sympathy. Emma’s shoulders slump in disappointment. Eh, t’was worth the try. “Sorry. She has  _ definitely  _ noticed, Ems— I mean, how wouldn’t she? You two share the desk.” Elsa snorts. “Go before she comes back, maybe there’s a chance to save yourself yet?”

“Miss Swan,” they both hear Regina’s voice loud and clear, and Emma mouths  _ ‘I’m screwed’ _ to Elsa, who only nods emphatically, mouthing ‘ _ Yes, you are’  _ back.

Emma swivels on her feet, staring at the imposing figure next to their desk. The navy blue dress she’s wearing is messing with her head. It shouldn’t be allowed for her to be so beautiful when she’s angry with Emma, she thinks briefly, then admonishes herself because this is  _ not the time  _ for a gay moment. Like, sure, she’s gorgeous, but that’s  _ all. _

It’s been increasingly difficult to avoid these thoughts. These gay thoughts, which are totally inappropriate considering who Regina is and considering that she might still be dating and—

—it’s not relevant.

“Hey, Regina,” she greets hesitantly once she’s shuffled to where her  _ favorite  _ co-worker is standing, hands shoved in her jeans’ back pockets.

“It’s Ms. Mills, dear.” Regina corrects. Crosses her arms. She steps closer, trying to intimidate Emma by moving right into her personal space and obliterating it. Shit.  _ “Thirty _ minutes, Miss Swan. Need I remind you… this is your  _ job, _ in case you’ve forgotten.”

The thing is… as much as she finds Regina pretty, Emma also has a problem with authority. Always has had. She hates feeling like a little kid amongst adults who know better and who feel they are better than her. It doesn’t help that Regina is saying this loud enough for all their co-workers to hear. She reddens with humiliation. Imagine if Ruby or Marian weren’t out of earshot inside their shared office. 

Anger festers in her chest, and she tries to suppress it. Takes off her messenger bag, sets it on her chair. Rolling her shoulders, she turns to look at Regina again, face closed off.

“I truly don’t understand how difficult it is to actually  _ arrive on time.  _ Didn’t your parents teach you to be punctual in your commitments?”

That’s  _ it. _

“Look, that’s kind of difficult in f—”  _ foster care.  _ Her voice cracks before she finishes her sentence, and she mentally shakes herself up for almost saying it out loud. It’s like she’s been hit with a bucket of cold water. “Nevermind. Sorry I’m late, Re— Ms. Mills.”

No need to give free ammunition to Regina. It’s not worth it. Emma doesn’t want her pity, or… she  _ knows  _ Regina isn’t a shitty person and won’t use it against Emma, but she decides to shut the hell up. Keep her cards close to her chest and all that.

So Emma clears her throat, looks at the ground to recompose herself. She mentally counts to 10 like one of her therapists once said she should whenever she wanted to punch a mean kid or a social worker who gave zero fucks for her wellbeing.

“That’s all?” Regina tilts her head, with an irritatingly beautiful but extremely arrogant smile. _Don’t look at her lips, Emma. Nor the little scar on her upper lip. Nuh uh. Bad._ Regina stares expectantly at her, most likely waiting for Emma to lose the argument by flying off the handle.

But Emma’s an expert at analyzing people. She’d had to develop that particular skill quite early in life. She’s already decided to be mature about it.

“I apologized. It won’t happen again. I do take this seriously,  _ Ms. Mills. _ I’m usually here twenty minutes early if possible. If you have a problem with me in the future, talk to one of our bosses.” She shrugs, nervous about the prospect but not willing to show it. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve just been reminded I should be doing my job. Is there anything else you needed?”

Taken aback, Regina blinks several times. Her mouth opens and closes, no sound coming out. Huh, guess she’s still able to surprise Regina, whose eyes study Emma like she’s a puzzle she has no idea how to begin to solve. Emma’s keeping her on her toes, then. 

Regina places a hand on her stomach, her tongue peeking out to moisten her lips — Emma’s still not looking at her lips — before she replies, looking slightly flustered: “Well.”

Emma crosses her arms, a tiny smile peeking out from the corner of her mouth as much as she tries to suppress it. “Well?”

Still frowning, Regina says, “Yes. The final sketches—”

“They are due today, yes.” Emma nods confidently. “I know. Thanks for the heads up, though.”

Regina clears her throat, suddenly uncomfortable with Emma’s stare. She pushes her own chair back, sits down primly and avoids Emma for the rest of their shift.

Good.

*******

“I know Regina’s a bit difficult...” Ruby says to her the next day, perching on Emma’s desk and watching over to make sure Regina’s not about to pop up suddenly. “I heard you two had an argument yesterday?”

Emma grumbles, adjusting her measurements on the computer. News travel fast, it seems. Probably Mary Margaret — she’s always gossiping. “It was nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“She’s a great asset to the team, but I want you to be in a good environment.” Ruby crosses her arms. “I could relocate you to the other side.”

Emma’s stomach churns at that. She gives Ruby her undivided attention now. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I think we’ve reached an understanding yesterday.”

Ruby frowns. “Are you sure? I know Marian really was hoping that you two would hit it off, but if it’s not working, I can talk to her.”

Emma hates being a problem to people. She’s always been the problem — the problem child no one wanted — so all her life she’s worked on being a problem-solver. She can handle Regina just fine, pfft. “Rubes.” She stops her. “It’s fine. I’m fine. That Jones guy at college who wouldn’t stop following me like a puppy was way worse.”

Ruby laughs as if there aren’t thirty other people trying to do their job near them. Honestly, only Ruby would dare. “Okay.” She grins. “Then go back to work.”

“Hey, you were the one—”

“I’m your boss, so I can do anything I want!” Ruby sticks her tongue out.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Ruby.”

She pouts. “I know.”

*******

Months pass, as it’s bound to happen. Emma is always waiting for the moment it’ll all go downhill, as it’s bound to happen. It’s always better to think she’s going through life on borrowed time, than to assume she’s finally on the right tracks.

It hasn’t gone downhill so far, surprisingly.

Regina never commented again on the few times Emma was late, which is a plus.

Oh, they do have several petty fights over time, of course.

And they can be assholes to each other, alright.

Emma’s in charge of getting coffee at the Starbucks down their street, since they don’t have anyone else to do it. It’s the perfect opportunity to get Regina’s order slightly wrong  _ every time  _ and wait to see if she’ll pick up on it.

So far, so good.

(Regina’s noticed, probably. She doesn’t say anything outright, so Emma will continue doing it. Regina more than repays in kind. Though she’s not subtle about it. She places the lunch order for everyone and more often than not Emma gets a bunch of greens and tomatoes and something resembling a ranch dressing, even though she would  _ never _ order a boring salad to herself. She’s not boring, she’s not  _ Regina.) _

“You know what really gets me?” Emma asks her roommate that morning, playing with a floating purple fruit loop on the milk.

“No, but you’ll tell me,” Mulan says before shoving the whole runny egg yolk in her mouth.

Emma ignores it, used to it.

“Regina’s never in one place.” She finally eats the fruit loop. “I’m sure she has powers of some kind, because it’s just  _ not possible.” _

“Is that so?” Mulan raises both her eyebrows, grabs her mug and sips her coffee without a care in the world.

“Don’t say anything,” Emma warns, pointing the spoon at her. 

Mulan shrugs. “You know what I think.”

“Yeah, I know what you think but I choose to ignore it.”

Emma prefers to think:  _ my co-worker is very beautiful but I still hate her. _

Seriously though, Regina often disappears to god knows where (like right now: she’s not in the office), somehow manages the position of receptionist and personal relations at the same time, does several odd-jobs around, and prefers to ignore the fact that Emma essentially shares most of her working space with her.

Before Emma curse Regina’s existence aloud, she pushes back her chair and goes to the water cooler in the corridor just outside the main area, mostly to stretch her legs.

_ Why do you have to be so gorgeous, though? _ It’s difficult to hold a grudge. It’s also so damn funny that Regina gets bothered at all, gets all rattled by Emma’s pettiness and returns it just as spitefully.

Also, Emma is putty in women’s hands, okay? Not even in a sexual way, either. In general. Give her a woman in a pantsuit and an attitude and she is almost asking  _ please, would you kindly step on me with those heels?  _ Regina looks at her with those dark eyes and pursed lips and she almost starts babbling like an idiot. It’s ridiculous.

Shaking her head, she grabs the plastic cup with more force than she’d intended, obviously, and almost drops the rest of them to the floor. Oops. Thankfully, no one was around to see it.

She eventually manages to fill her cup with water, if anyone had wondered.

But seriously, who does Regina think she is? Emma gulps her water, then refills the cup, still thirsty. Regina struts in with her fancy clothes and alluring short dark hair and asks for fifty things at once  _ and  _ expects Emma to drop everything she was doing to… to— wait. Shit, there’s an urgent e-mail to send, and she can’t stop thinking about her ‘enemy’. Her very attractive enemy—

_ Drop it, ohmygod,  _ she interrupts her own train of thought before it spirals once more. Swivels on her feet and immediately collides with someone.

Just her luck, really.

She’s just affected someone else with her dose of Clumsy Emma.

Her very full plastic cup crackles between them, smashed in the collision. The person gasps in disbelief—

Taking a step back, the apology gets stuck in Emma’s throat when she realizes  _ her plastic cup has just smashed in the collision.  _ Her plastic cup  _ full of water,  _ now broken and nearly empty in her hand. She glares at it. The culprit.

“Next time, watch where you’re going,” Regina snaps, brown eyes nearly burning holes in her as Emma looks up.

Then it clicks that—

_ Oh my god. _

_ Regina.  _

Emma’s water splashed all over  _ Regina. _

And she’s very angry — with good reason — though the snarl on her lips just makes Emma want to kiss her frown away, smooth the lines of frustration from her forehead.

_ I’m doomed. _

“Oh,” Emma says eloquently, at a loss. It’s all she can muster.

Frowning, Regina finally glances down at her shirt. “Great. At least you didn’t destroy the papers,” she mutters, holding them away from her body. She touches the wet spot in the fabric with her other hand.

And Emma can’t not  _ stare,  _ because Regina’s white button-up shirt is now see-through. Mouth open, transfixed by the sight of the lace bra, she just stands there for a few seconds like the complete gay disaster she is.

Emma averts her gaze from Regina’s chest when Regina looks up, and her face burns as if she’d been caught. It does prompt her into action. She lets the ruined cup fall to the floor, and it spills the rest of the water, but she pays it no mind as she tries to wipe down the wet stain on Regina’s shirt with her hands. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Let me just—”

In hindsight, what a stupid idea.

Eyes wide, Regina slaps her hands away, blushing just as badly as Emma. “What are you doing, you idiot?” she asks, her voice cracking.

_ Yes, I’m an idiot. _

“J-just trying to help—”

“Then  _ don’t.  _ Just watch where you’re going, Miss Swan,” Regina says, then steps aside hastily before Emma can answer. She watches her get back to her desk and don her black coat to cover the stain.

Okay, Emma might have a problem.

Her heart sped up just from hearing  _ Miss Swan  _ falling from Regina’s lips.

*******

**Mulan**

_ shit _

_ i like her _

_ FINALLY. _

_ FINALLY WE AGREE. _

_ i hate you. _

_ Sorry, I can’t hear you!  _

_ I was right all along so I’m gloating!!! _

_ UGH _

*******

A few weeks ago they hired a receptionist.

Which means Regina is working full-time on her desk as a PR.

And that also means she’s sharing the space with her all day.

She gets less emails with instructions and more face-to-face talks about the next campaign or brand awareness or social media material she needs from Emma.

It’s a blessing and a curse.

Emma gives their new receptionist a quick salute, to which Ivy just rolls her eyes and goes back to her computer. “Anything for me?” Emma asks, pausing before the corridor to the main office, staring expectantly at Ivy.

“Check your email,” Ivy confirms. “The information you needed from the other company is there.”

“Great, thanks.”

“Regina's already in,” Ivy offers, giving her  _ that  _ look.

Freaking hell. Does  _ everyone  _ know she has the hots for Regina?

It’s been a few weeks since the Water Incident, and it spread like a wildfire around the office because some asshole saw it and kindly sent the memo to everyone.

If possible, she’d kick herself in the shin for being so  _ weird  _ and embarrassing around Regina. Who the fuck starts wiping someone’s chest— Actually, who even thinks that's a good idea?? Regina could file a harassment complaint against her because she didn’t  _ think  _ before trying to help.

Since then Emma has admitted to herself she’s screwed. Anything Regina does makes Emma feel like she might explode — a triple A: admiration, attraction and annoyance. 

Something lights up inside like Emma’s a freakin’ Christmas tree — and there are three months to go still! She’s waaaay ahead. 

This attraction is blowing out of proportion.

The confident, self-assured tone in Regina’s voice and her cocky attitude used to be the most annoying thing ever, and now she gets flutters in her lower stomach just from the intensity of Regina’s gaze when directed at her.

(However, Regina is still an asshole 90% of the times, so Emma is an asshole too. She can’t help it, really.)


	3. Chapter 3

Emma glances at the world outside the office while taking a sip of her coffee. Her very blessed _hot_ coffee, warming her hands from this nasty cold day. Seems they won’t have snow this Christmas. That’s fine. Easier to get home. (Less chances of slipping and falling flat on her ass.)

Holiday season used to be the worst time of the entire _year_ for her.

Back then, just out of the system, Emma simply could not find the joy of Thanksgiving or Christmas or anything related to that after so many years of being forgotten, of feeling like she was infringing on other families’ Christmas holidays, of not getting any presents, of not belonging.

Then she got a scholarship, started freelancing, met people like Ruby and Mulan who genuinely cared for her well-being, and realized… well, maybe not the whole world is that shitty. There are things (and people) worth fighting for.

She sets her empty cup down, far far away from any electronic devices because she doesn’t take any chances. She’s clumsy as hell and Regina’s the living proof of it, unfortunately.

(“You’re not drinking that near the computer, are you?” Regina had asked once, staring at the coffee in Emma’s hand like it was a complete hazard to humanity.

“Uh. No?” Emma had never pushed her rolling chair away from the desk so quickly in her life, nearly hitting the brick wall by the tall windows. A safe distance away from everything and everyone. “Far from it. I would never put a computer at risk.” She gave Regina a toothy smile for good measure.

Regina raised an eyebrow, her face impassive except for the tiny smirk tugging at her lips. Ha, she was not invincible to Emma’s silly humor. “Good. Stay there, will you?”

It would be nice if she could say she didn’t obey the command like a silly Golden Retriever would, but that’s exactly what she did.

She also likes to think Regina is slowly warming up to her.

Wishful thinking, probably.) 

Pushing her chair close to her desk, she puts her headphones back on, and resumes her playlist with an amused grin. It sounds like something from a romcom, if she stops to think about it. Minus the ‘ _you get the girl after dumping your beverage on her by accident’,_ but still. She shakes her head, grabbing the digital pen, smile falling when she remembers Regina is not interested. I mean, why would she?

Emma has to _stop._

On other news, she’d been listening to Mariah Carey prior to the coffee pause. Great way to get back on track with the layout she’d been working on.

Emma mouths the words, her foot tapping to the beat, _Make my wish come true!_ _Oh baby all I want for Christmas is you!_

“Very festive of you… I, on the other hand, am _not.”_

Emma jumps. The digital pen runs a line through the middle of her work on the tablet. She clicks ‘undo’, annoyed at the disruption. Removing her headphones again, Emma slowly turns her head to her right. “When did you get here?” she asks, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest while Regina glares at Emma.

“I cannot concentrate with Mariah Carey’s high notes _piercing my skull,_ Miss Swan.”

“That song is a classic,” Emma replies. (Just to get on Regina’s nerves.) The vein on Regina’s forehead looks very close to popping, her nostrils flared. That’s Emma’s cue to raise her hands in surrender. “I’ll lower the volume, geez.”

Regina opens her mouth to retort, but they’re both called by their bosses.

Emma almost wishes they hadn’t been.

*******

Back in the office after lunch, Emma waves at Ivy, who doesn’t even stop filing her nails to grumble a ‘Good afternoon’ back. Sheesh, someone’s in a bad mood.

Removing her gloves, Emma makes her way to her desk, her mind still processing the fact she’ll have to prepare the Christmas party with _Regina._ Like, what the hell? Didn’t Ruby nor Marian realize she rarely, if ever, gets along with Regina? God, when Mulan hears about this...

Well, at least lunch with Elsa was good. Emma complained thoroughly about the fact she has to make this thing happen, and Elsa found it all very amusing, considering Emma has a major crush on Regina. She thinks it’ll be a good chance to mend their differences.

Yeah, like that’s ever happening.

She drops herself on her chair with an audible sigh, and takes a Post-It that was attached to her monitor.

**We need to plan the party later. -R**

It’s ridiculous: she wants to _smile_ because of Regina’s perfect handwriting.

Speaking of her— Emma watches as Regina struts in in her heels, phone pressed to her ear and a pinched expression on her features.

Whoever’s on the other side of the line is not Regina’s choice for conversation.

“I have to go.” Regina says, sitting down slowly. “I won’t—” There’s a pause. Emma pretends she’s not listening in, turning the small yellow paper over and over in her hand. “Yes, I was being serious,” she says quietly, and it doesn’t sound like Regina at all — it sounds like someone very, very small, not the confident person Regina is.

Emma barely hides her discontent, moving her mouse around to turn back on her computer’s screen. She sets the paper aside, logs in and pretends she’s not listening in. She can’t hear what the other person is saying, but Regina runs a hand through her hair, clearly exasperated. 

“I respect your decision,” Regina says stiffly, sounding like she doesn’t respect it at all. “Goodbye.” She sighs, and it’s not a happy one.

Emma stifles the urge to glance at her; instead, she starts typing up an email and lets Regina recompose herself.

Once it is typed and sent, Emma fiddles with the Post-It again and turns her chair to look at Regina properly. “Hey,” she calls. Regina stares at her, eyes shining with unguarded pain for a few seconds before she’s able to mask it. _Are you okay, Regina?_ she wants to ask, but knows it wouldn’t be received well. 

She holds up the small paper, doesn’t acknowledge the conversation she’s just heard. (Regina would probably bite her head off, anyway.) “You busy?”

Something in Regina’s face shifts when she glances at the paper. “Very. We’ll have to postpone it.”

*******

So… Emma gets the cold shoulder for the remaining of the day, so the rescheduling is maybe tomorrow?

Who knows.

*******

It’s funny how a few years ago she’d have curled up in her sofa with _lots_ of alcohol and whined about the holidays as the very morose drunk she can be.

Nowadays, she’s even started her own holiday traditions. It could get a bit lonely sometimes, but at least it’s all hers, and no one can take that from her.

She’ll take a stroll at the local park by herself, watch terrible Christmas’ romances, laugh at all the truly terrible decorations she can find at stores, drink hot cocoa with cinnamon and whipped cream…

(It just aches, sometimes, not having someone with whom to share those things.)

Thus, being reminded they’ll have a Christmas Party to celebrate the end of a very successful year doesn’t hurt as much anymore. She’s never been invited to one before. So she’ll spend Christmas alone, but she’ll have a party first. It’s nice.

There’s a catch, though.

She tunes back in to hear Regina say, “I still cannot believe I’m stuck with you for this,” and rolls her eyes, because of course Regina’s complaining.

Emma’s eyes are raised, watching the number 8 slowly lower to 7, then to… “You think I like this any more than you do? I’m only doing it because Marian and Ruby seemed really happy with the idea. Some _team-building,_ they said.”

“Well, ‘team-building’ or not,” Regina air-quotes mockingly, “just don’t ruin it like—”

“Hey, you _know_ that wasn’t my fault,” Emma defends herself. “How was I supposed to know that a freaking Post-It held important information? Anna should have added it to the files.”

Regina turns her head in Emma’s direction, frowning. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Emma’s eyes widen noticeably. Huh, so she hadn’t known about that… “Nevermind,” she mumbles.

With a heavy sigh, Regina’s mercifully silent between the 6th and 5th floor.

“I was talking about the time you ruined my blouse.” Regina says eventually, and it’s not surprising at all, because Regina holds a grudge almost as religiously as Emma does. Before she can cheekily ask _Which one?,_ Regina continues, “Oh, right. I’d forgotten that you’ve done this not once, but _twice.”_ Yep. Besides the water incident, Emma once spilled her _coffee_ over Regina. It was an accident. (Unfortunately.) “Frankly, I don’t understand how you’re _still—”_

Regina is unable to end her thought as the elevator makes a terrible shrieking sound, jerking violently.

Just as suddenly as it starts, it shudders to an abrupt halt.

Emma stumbles, of course, one arm trying to find the safety rail when the lights flicker off and they’re in complete darkness for a few seconds.

And several things happen at once.

She actually finds fabric instead of metal, because there’s something she’d forgotten: there _isn’t_ a safety rail in this jurassic tiny elevator. So Emma's hand finds Regina’s arm, somehow Regina’s hands find Emma’s waist, and they hold onto one another to prevent a nasty fall. 

However, it does escape her notice that they meant to be _sworn enemies_ — and enemies don’t help each other. She completely forgets she’s supposed to keep her distance.

Emma feels pretty certain that in a past life she must’ve done something really terrible. Because her bad luck just keeps mounting today.

The evidence:

1) She left home without her beanie and it’s _freezing-your-tits_ cold today;

2) Marian and Ruby called both her and Regina in their office yesterday to share the _great news:_ “We thought it would be really great if you two planned the company’s first real Christmas party, so we’ve assigned the job to you!”, and Mulan didn't stop laughing for ten minutes;

3) She forgot to save her progress on a file yesterday and had to redo the whole thing;

4) She’s stuck in an elevator with _Regina,_ of all people to be stuck in an elevator with.

Before the situation can become any more awkward, as soon as she realizes Regina is removing her hands from her waist, she lets Regina’s arms go. It feels like Regina’s hands left a blazing trail on Emma’s skin even through her shirt. She’s gonna gay panic soon. Ohmygod.

Now illuminated by the red glow of the emergency lights, Emma starts laughing nervously at the absurd situation. “Hey,” she says with false cheer. “Now I’m literally stuck with you.”

Regina’s face is caught between panic and exasperation, though in the end she only rolls her eyes at Emma, folding her arms against her chest.

*******

There’s isn’t much space in the metal box, but they each stand on a corner as far away as possible.

“It’ll be around an hour before they can get us out,” Emma tells Regina after ending the call. “There’s a hold up at the company in charge of the maintenance.”

“Of course there is.” Regina scoffs, sparing her a side-glance. “An hour putting up with _you,_ you mean,” she adds.

Emma sighs, because _here we go again._ “The feeling’s mutual, Regina,” she says tiredly.

“Yes, I’m sure.” At least she didn’t comment on the fact that Emma used her name.

There’s a pause, only the elevator’s whirling sounds filling the space, although she can practically hear Regina’s steaming in silence, fiddling with the ring on her neck.

Regina then says, “This is your fault — I do hope you realize.”

“I was waiting for that.” Emma says, sardonic smile on her lips. “Please tell me how this is my fault. I can’t wait to hear it.”

Emma watches as Regina gears herself up for a fight, shoulders back and lip curled. _“You’re_ the one who suggested we look at decorations.”

“And _you’re_ the one who accepted it, so I don’t see why an elevator malfunction has to be the end of the world, _and_ my fault on top of that. We could have done this yesterday, but you—”

“I don’t know why I should even bother—”

“Have you ever stopped to listen to yourself?” Emma asks, while they have a staring contest. “All you do is complain. _All_ the time.”

Regina looks away first. With her eyes fixed on the metal doors, she says, “Maybe if—”

 _“No,_ Regina,” Emma interrupts, gathering some courage. “Not this again. Don’t come at me with this — it’s bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“This is not work related. Not this time, at least. What’s going on? You’re usually less… less...” Emma waves her hand around, searching for the right word.

“Less _what,”_ Regina demands, “hmm?”

Emma sighs, remembers to whom she’s talking. She backtracks. “It’s not like I care, so whatever,” she mumbles.

Emma can feel Regina’s eyes on her, pressuring her to answer.

 _Biting the bullet it is._ “You’re being terrible today,” Emma admits in a low tone, like the words were in danger of leaving the elevator. She has no idea why she’s nearly whispering, but she’s suddenly very serious about it. “You’re being terrible for _no reason._ I didn’t do anything to you. Not today at least?” Emma smiles weakly. “But you’ve been like this since… yesterday.” _Since the call,_ she thinks with sudden clarity.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Regina’s voice trembles, betraying her apparent composure. She straightens out her blazer unnecessarily and crosses her arms, like a shield, like Emma is attacking her somehow.

Emma leans away from the wall, convinces herself that it is to see Regina better in these dim lights, confused at her posturing. “If there’s anything I can do for you to stop acting like—”

“Like what?” Regina asks quickly, interrupting her. She mirrors Emma’s movement unconsciously and also shifts closer, which means they’re definitely only a few feet apart, eyes locked as if in a trance.

Her perfume is not overpowering, but it is noticeable enough that Emma can’t help inhaling more sharply on purpose. It’s addicting. Something spicy and uniquely Regina, whose proximity is not helping Emma think straight. (Hah, like she could think straight.)

“I… I was only trying to… I don’t know...” Emma says quietly, shrugs her shoulders. She’s not certain of what she’s doing, really. Her heart has been pounding since the moment she stepped away from that corner. And why’s Regina closer than before, staring curiously at her like maybe this time she’d _enjoy_ solving the puzzle Emma is? Preferably with a few kisses and touches—

Emma coughs. _Bad Emma._ She shakes her head to push that thought away.

“You can stop pretending you care,” Regina swallows visibly. She actually looks _scared,_ staring wide-eyed at Emma. “I know for a fact that you don’t.”

“I’m…” Emma shakes herself up and decides to just say it. “I’m not pretending. I’m worried, Regina. I care, alright? I do care. And you’re not this irritable unless something’s really bothering you, and usually I’m the one—”

Regina leans forward and cups her cheeks, silencing her quite effectively. Centimeters away from Emma, close enough she could count her eyelashes if she so wanted. Close enough that she can see the different shades of brown on Regina’s irises, and yet… _not_ close enough. Emma blinks, all her previous courage blown away by a single gesture.

 _Waitwaitwait doesn’t she have a boyfriend?_ her brain tries to catch up, sirens flaring up inside. _What the hell!!!! Is happening!!!!!_

“Stop me,” Regina breathes out, gaze alternating between Emma’s eyes and lips, while she bites her own. Emma’s stomach twists pleasantly at the hungry expression on Regina’s face. Shit, this is real.

“No,” Emma whispers back, “I won’t stop you.”

Every thought scatters as soon as Regina closes the remaining distance and presses their mouths together without trepidation, despite the way her hands tremble on Emma’s cheeks.

Her heart hammering in her chest, Emma kisses her back just as enthusiastically, her hand sliding into Regina’s luscious hair, while Regina’s hands move to her waist, bringing their bodies closer together. Regina moans, and Emma’s quite sure she’s just ruined her underwear.

_Huh. Maybe Regina’s gay, too._

Regina makes another delicious sound when Emma sucks her upper lip and licks along the scar there. She’s been wanting to do that for _months._ And the noise just makes Emma want to bring out more of those, because shit, Regina’s so _hot._

The air they do have inside the small space gets heavy and electric, their kisses a bit messy and hard as they get a bit carried away from the exhilaration (and months of pent-up sexual tension reaching its turning point). 

Hey, and if they stay stuck forever inside this elevator before Christmas, at least she can die saying she kissed her co-worker / ex-enemy / crush as an early gift.

And damn, Regina’s a good kisser.

Emma doesn’t know about her, but she definitely forgets about the fact they’re inside an elevator until the doors are being pulled open — they pull apart, and there’s not enough time for Emma to brush away Regina’s lipstick probably all over her mouth.

“Ladies, my apologies for the delay.” The maintenance guy says, trying very hard to keep the amusement from his face.

*******

“Still ignoring you, then?” Mulan asks, patting Emma’s head.

“Yes,” Emma mumbles to the table.

She hears porcelain scraping over the counter, but doesn’t remove her head from between her crossed arms. “I made your favorite,” Mulan offers gently.

“Thanks,” Emma mumbles again.

“Have you tried talking to her?”

Emma raises her head, sighing heavily. “Yeah. She says she can’t do this. I asked if she was seeing someone, and she said no. So I don’t get it. I think… I think she just realized I’m  _ me,  _ you know?”

Mulan gives her a stern look. “You’re amazing, Emma,” she says, grasping Emma’s hand in hers and squeezing. “She’s a fool for not realizing it.”

Emma smiles half-heartedly. “Thanks, I guess.” 

*******

The days go by, and Emma wants to tear her hair out. Regina is officially ignoring her since their kiss, so they work on the party by email mostly even though they’re sitting right next to each other.

It’s maddening. Emma’s sick of it.

She’s done with this hot and cold attitude. What the hell happened?

“Have you confirmed with the catering company?” Emma asks, despite everything.

“Yes, I did.” Regina doesn’t even spare her a glance.

She looks so indifferent that it almost feels like an arrow is piercing Emma’s chest. It really hurts, especially because she has no idea what she’s done to deserve this.

“And? What did they say?”

“They said it’s confirmed,” Regina says slowly. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Miss Swan.”

“I want”  _ —to know why you’re acting like this, like it didn’t matter, like—  _ “to make sure they know the number of people has increased a little since last time, that’s all,” she says through her teeth.

“Yes. Now, if there’s nothing else,” Regina trails off, motioning to her screen, “I have work to do.” She maneuvers her chair to face forward once more, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear and biting her lip.

Emma can’t take this anymore. Her jaw clenches.

Before she fully realizes what she’s doing, she blurts, “Actually, there’s something…”

Regina turns her head, a hopeful look in her eye. It doesn’t make any  _ sense.  _ One moment it’s like she can’t stand Emma, and then she gives her  _ this. _

“A word in the hallway, please,” Emma requests.

She gets up from her chair, watching as Regina does the same, eyes wide.

She’s going to find out what’s wrong  _ right now. _

*******

“Seriously, what the hell did I do?” Emma asks once she’s pulled Regina inside the broom closet.

Regina closes her eyes in defeat, and crosses her arms. When she opens them, they’re glistening with unshed tears. Emma aches for her, aches to make it okay. Maybe it wasn’t her fault after all. Maybe…

“What happened, Regina?”

Regina laughs, but it lacks any humor. Every hair on the nape of Emma’s neck stands up from the sadness in Regina’s tone as she says, “That phone call happened.  _ You  _ happened. I’m—” She stops, voice cracking, then clenches her jaw in an attempt to stop the tears, like she can’t afford to be any more vulnerable in front of Emma, who was  _ not  _ expecting this at all.

Regina stares right into Emma’s eyes with that intensity she’s come to yearn for. “You did nothing wrong, to be fair. I’m just a fool who can’t… I couldn’t… But I’m so _tired,”_ she says, fondness in her gaze, stumbling over her words. It’s so uncharacteristic of her that Emma stays silent, just listens. “So tired of pretending.”

_ Pretending? _

“That day, my mother called,” Regina says in a non sequitur.

Oh. Wait— “The… the phone call?” Regina nods. “Is she okay?”

Regina scoffs. “She said she’d let me come home for the holidays if I told her I’ve given up my… my lesbian phase once and for all,” she answers flatly, and it all clicks. This  _ really  _ wasn’t Emma’s fault.

Emma moves forward, grasps one of Regina’s hands in hers and squeezes. “I’m so sorry, Regina.”

Regina squeezes back. “The truth is, I’m  _ scared,  _ Emma.” Her name falls from Regina’s lips for the first time like she hadn’t dared utter it before because it’s  _ important _ , like she treasures it. It’s mind-blowing, really.

“Scared?”

Regina nods, letting go of Emma’s hand to fidget with her own fingers. “I’ve never felt like this before,” she admits quietly. “I tried to pretend I was not— not  _ gay  _ my whole life. I went on dates with men, telling myself I was just being picky. Telling myself I could get over it like my mother wanted… And then you came along.” Regina gives her a playful eye roll, finally smiling again, and it’s so pretty Emma feels very warm all of a sudden, cold temperatures notwithstanding.

Mouth dry, Emma licks her lips. “So... you don’t hate me?” she dares to ask.

She shakes her head in negative. “I tried to make  _ you _ hate me,” Regina confesses with a wince.

Emma blinks. “What? So, the elevator—?”

“The elevator was an accident. The first time, I mean,” Regina explains. “Then I realized…” she trails off, cheeks rosy, suddenly embarrassed. It’s  _ adorable.  _

“...I’m extremely hot?” Emma grins, making a show of running a hand through her hair.

Regina hits her arm in retaliation, but the pain is worth it for the laugh that bubbles from Regina’s throat. “Be serious, Emma.” 

“Guess the Christmas spirit cracked your resolve?” Emma teases, butterflies in her stomach because  _ how  _ is it even possible? All this time they’ve wasted because she had  _ no idea…  _ She looks up and around the closet, then pouts. “Too bad there’s no mistletoe in here.”

Regina chuckles, then pulls Emma in by holding onto her arms, so that they’re very, very close. “Shut up and kiss me, Emma.”

*******

If anyone had told Emma she’d meet her nemesis because of an elevator and fall in love with her  _ also _ because of the same elevator, she would have laughed.

Alas, it seems that’s exactly what happened.


End file.
